


Burn, Burn, Burn

by JosephineStone



Series: My Dark/Hurt fics [8]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Death Eater Draco Malfoy, Genderbending, Minor Character Death, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-21
Updated: 2015-02-21
Packaged: 2018-03-14 08:28:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3403835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JosephineStone/pseuds/JosephineStone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco will do whatever he must to protect his friends from their stupid life choices. Potter, of course, catches him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burn, Burn, Burn

Draco’s stomach always revolted against him when his mark burned with Voldemort’s call. He was close. Already at the Manor. Draco followed the call down to dining room where he heard many low voices conversing as they waited for everyone else to arrive. His parents were already seated with a space between them waiting for him to join them. The table was quickly filling up with familiar faces. They were all in the dark about the purpose of this meeting just like Draco. He could tell by the lack of smugness in their expressions. 

Bellatrix was the only one who looked excited, but then she always was excited to see the Dark Lord.

Then the last people Draco wanted to see were brought into the room: Vincent Crabbe and Greg Goyle.

He couldn’t breath as they took seats with their fathers. They couldn’t be marked. It was the only explanation both for the gathering and for their presence there that night. They were too thick to realise what it meant to be marked. What would be expected of them. Draco barely accomplished the tasks assigned to him and one of them was finished by Snape or wouldn’t have succeeded at all.

The Dark Lord was so pleased with Draco’s _creativity_ in finishing his other task and getting Dumbledore alone and disarmed in the tower, that he didn’t care Draco wasn’t the one to say the final spell.

Draco was in Lord Voldemort’s good graces. How far that would get him, he wasn’t sure. 

He needed to talk to him, alone, but Draco had no idea how to get him alone with a meeting about to start. All he could do was wait until it was over. Then he’d be allowed to approach him. Although, then everyone else would attempt to approach him as well.

‘Welcome,’ the Dark Lord said. Everyone sat silently waiting for an announcement to be made, and the Dark Lord said the last thing Draco wanted to hear. ‘We have new members to welcome.’ 

Everyone turned to look at his friends who wore self-satisfied smiles.

‘After they prove themselves, of course.’

Draco sighed in relief at the thought, until he remembered what happened if they didn’t prove themselves. Dark Mark or not they were already in. Vincent and Greg didn’t look at Draco, and if Sixth Year had been any indication then they weren’t too keen on continuing to take orders from him. They only continued to listen to him, because he got his orders from the Dark Lord and they did not. He couldn’t protect them, if they didn’t listen, so he still had to figure out a way for them to be forced to.

Once everyone, except Bella, had moved on from fishing for praise from the Dark Lord to congratulating Greg and Vincent’s fathers, Draco approached him.

The Dark Lord smiled at him as he approached and said to Bella, ‘I expect great things from this one; he has a sharp mind.’

‘Our family has had many great minds,’ she said, but she gave Draco a look that showed how little she trusted him.

Draco bowed and requested to speak with the Dark Lord alone. His eyebrows rose in mock surprise and Bellatrix looked at him with even more suspicion. He lead Draco out of the meeting room—which was their dining room—and to the sitting room. He hated how the Dark Lord smiled as he broached the subject. He didn’t want his friends marked; he wanted to be a part of whatever missions they were assigned. 

‘They aren’t the brightest, you see,’ Draco said. It wasn’t a lie, but it still made Draco’s stomach twist as he said the words. They were his friends. 

‘Jealousy,’ the Dark Lord started, ‘is considered a very negative trait, Draco.’ He watched Draco, waiting for a reaction.

Draco kept his face as neutral as possible. How did Snape never let emotion ever touch his features? ‘I find it motivating,’ Draco said, grabbing on to the excuse the Dark Lord gave him, even if he wished it wasn’t such a believable lie.

The Dark Lord was pleased with his answer and laughed. ‘I quite agree.’ He squeezed Draco’s shoulder as if he were his father congratulating him on a job well done. ‘As you wish. I’ll delay marking them, and as long as you continue to succeed you can continue to lead them.’ He paused as he let Draco relax into the news, then said, ‘They needn’t be very bright for the task I’ve assigned them. All I asked of them was to go out and kill as many Muggles as they could.’

#

Vincent glared at Draco, annoyed they had to follow his orders, his plans again. ‘Why is it?’ Vincent asked as Draco dressed for the show. ‘That all your plans involve using Polyjuice to turn someone into a girl?’

‘I’m not using Polyjuice,’ was all Draco gave for an answer. ‘Are you ready?’

Greg nodded and then reluctantly so did Vincent. Draco shooed them to their positions and then got ready to take the small stage. They were in a small Muggle club that accepted ameture performers as their entertainment. Draco wore a white dress covered in dangling beads, because this time he was the girl. Not Polyjuice as he had given them the year before to be adequate lookouts, but a simple sex changing potion. 

Why? Because, as unlikely as it was, Draco didn’t want anyone to recognize him, for one. Two, because he wasn’t sure he’d be able to sing in public as himself. She was no one. Anything she did had no lasting consequences on his life. She was just a beautiful, blonde girl in a beautiful, long dress singing in a club. 

This particular club only had two doors that customers could exit through. Vincent went to stand near one and Greg near the other. After Draco began it was important no one left nor entered. There was one door for staff in the back. It was where they had entered earlier that evening. It was where they’d exit in about fifteen minutes. The few staff were all on the floor. There was only one other performer other than Draco that night. Before she went to get dressed Daisy—as Draco called her—flirted with and begged him to come watch her. 

It was her first show, and she was so nervous. Having a friendly face in the crowd would give her someone to focus on. He agreed, and as she took the stage she saw him come to sit at the closest table to the stage.

She bumped the mic sending a loud screech through the speakers, and everyone clapped supportively as she apologised. After one false start, she began to sing. The few people who weren’t paying her any attentioned began to. The other performer for the night looked pleasantly surprised. 

Greg looked shocked. 

Vincent simply waited for his signal.

The spells Draco invented began with the last line right before the course; he’d worked it into the lyrics of the song. The first spell calmed everyone in the room and made them focus only on Daisy and her voice, and made them ignore anything else that happened around them. The second spell began with the chorus, and made fire start at the edge of the stage and spread in snake like patterns across the floor. The last spell was a variation of the Flame-Freezing Charm Wendelin the Weird used to make the flames harmless to her body and feel like a light tickle. It wasn’t a necessary spell for anyone except Draco.

Draco learned that spring—only about a month ago—that he couldn’t directly murder people. 

He tried everything he could think of to avoid it all year long and then when given no other choice he had Headmaster Dumbledore at wandpoint. He could have killed him, but at the same time he couldn’t make himself do it. Even with the memories of his father being tortured, even knowing what would happen to him and his mother and father when he failed. He couldn’t say the words and even if he’d said them he wouldn't have meant them, and the spell wouldn’t have worked. 

No one looked away from him. No one noticed the flames growing bigger around them. No one screamed or ran away. No one’s skin melted or burned.

Draco wouldn’t have been able to handle watching any of that.

Instead they watched him with fake smiles forced on their faces as they swayed or danced to the song. Until the smoke became thick within the room, and they began to drop and slump to the ground as they breathed their last smoked filled breath.

Daisy sang until the room was filled with sleeping corpses surrounded by flames that tickled instead of burned.

#

The Death Eaters attacks were becoming more frequent, but no one would tell them much about what was going on. As always Ron’s older brothers kept him cut out of the loop as well, so even if they knew something—and Harry was pretty sure they did—they couldn’t get any information out of them. Voldemort had gained control of the Ministry of Magic as well as all the newspapers, except Luna’s father’s which no one believed a word of anyway.

So, once again, they were left to eavesdropping to get any information about the war, and that was how they learned about the fires that were only possible with magic and causing so much trouble. They killed more Muggles than even the most brutal raids had.

‘What are you going to do?’ Hermione asked. ‘Go to a different club every night? You’d have better luck winning the lottery. The attacks have no pattern.’

Harry pulled out his small vial of Liquid Luck. ‘I have all the luck I need.’

Hermione closed her mouth and looked away.

‘We’re going with you,’ Ron said, before Harry could tell them not to. ‘You’re not going alone; it’s too dangerous. You’re too recognizable.’

‘What if they aren’t planning a raid tonight?’ Hermione stepped closer as Harry uncorked the bottle.

‘If this works like it did last time, they’ll probably change their mind about that.’

Ron and Hermione shared an alarmed look at that. The Death Eaters were planning on striking again, whether it was that night or not didn’t matter. People were going to be dying until they stopped them, and the Aurors were too busy with everything else to focus the energy that was needed for these specific tasks. And Harry would go mental if he sat around doing nothing for one more day. He had his own mission, but he’d promised to stay until at least after Bill’s wedding and really the adults expected them to return to Hogwarts.

They were just going out for the evening. Just trying to have a normal night with his friends and forget about the war. If anyone asked, they’d lie about where they were going. It was simple.

#

‘I can _not_ believe you Apparated us, Harry.’ Hermione was fuming. ‘You had no idea where you were going.’

‘Oh, but Felix did, Hermione, Felix did.’

The club they stood outside of was rather big. Most of the attacks had been at smaller clubs, probably because they’d have fewer people. The mass murders required the casters to have control over the whole room. The fewer people there the easier. Though it was obvious from the way the staff milled about—and the sheer number of them—that it was a slow night for the club.

Of course, with so many mass murders happening at clubs all over the country, Harry was surprised that anyone was willing to go in one anymore. Once inside the first conversation Harry listened in on was about that. The owner sat at the bar drinking and talking with the bartender. 

‘I’m thinking about shutting down for the rest of the summer.’

The barkeeper frowned. ‘They said those fires were caused by faulty wiring.’

‘All of them?’ The owner shook his head. ‘People are scared; most bands aren’t even performing anymore. I only got one girl—a no one, beautiful, but a no one—willing to perform tonight. A month ago we had a waiting list.’

Harry looked up to the stage as the girl in question had just come out upon it.

‘Bleeding Hell,’ Ron said in almost a whisper, and Hermione elbowed him. Harry was transfixed before she even began to sing. She was beautiful, stunning and . . . a Malfoy. She could have been Draco Malfoy’s twin sister, if he had any siblings. Since they knew he didn’t, she was probably a cousin.

Hermione was busy glaring at them when she began to sing. ‘Lord, it’s almost like you’ve been bewitched.’ She looked at Harry. ‘You went to school with Veelas in fourth year and never acted like this around them, even.’ She couldn’t say the same thing for Ron, and simply huffed.

Harry was only dimly aware of Hermione’s rant next to him as he watched the girl. He wanted to believe she had no part in it, but it was too much of a coincidence that someone who was clearly a Malfoy was there on that night.

Also, her dress was sleeveless, and her Dark Mark was clearly visible on her left arm. 

Suddenly, Hermione hit both Harry and Ron with a spell, and his mind cleared a bit. Everyone around them was focused on the stage. Then Harry noticed the fire.

‘What’s going on?’ Ron asked.

Hermione shook her head, and said, ‘I’m not sure, but at the same time as everyone else I lost you there for a minute.’ Hermione had her back to the stage and hadn’t been giving her any attention.

Harry looked back at the girl singing and saw that she was staring at them, a look of horror crossed her face. 

The people around them began to slowly fall to the ground. There was fire everywhere, but no one was burning. The girl looked away from them and nodded to someone. A second later two men were running to the back and she was backing off the stage. Harry jumped up and went after the two men, but by the time he got out the back door they must have Disapparated.

He ran back in and right into the girl. He pinned her against the wall. She struggled against him, but he was too strong for her. Then she stopped struggling and was smirking up at him.

‘Let us help you,’ Harry said because Felix somehow knew that she couldn’t be doing this of her own free will.

She seemed caught off guard for a moment, but then she rolled her eyes and pressed up against him. ‘I’m sure you so want to _help_ me.’

Harry was hard and she pushed her pelvis up against him distracting Harry enough that she got out of his grasp. The potion, of course, didn’t let her get two feet before tripping over the edge of her dress. Ron and Hermione were there then, and helped him catch her.

Coughing, Hermione said, ‘We have to get out of here, before the smoke gets us, too.’

‘Okay,’ Harry said. ‘Grimmauld Place.’

Hermione Apparated them all.

#

Daisy, as they found out her name was, was locked in Harry’s bedroom. After Harry left her there, Ron said, ‘I’m not sure that’s the type of lucky we were after with this mission, mate.’

‘I wasn’t planning on doing anything!’ Harry was scandalized at the thought.

‘That’s the thing though, isn’t it?’ Ron asked. ‘When you’re on liquid luck you never plan anything. They just happen. If the potion thinks—’ Ron paused as he thought over what he had just said. Did the potion really think? ‘Well, anyway. If it helps you toward your goal, whatever your goal is, then it will happen whether that is your plan on or not.’

They were in the kitchen then, because Felix felt the need to make some tea.

Hermione watched him as she bit her lip, obviously trying to hold something back.

‘What?’ He asked her and found a lemon and some honey. ‘I think we need to help her. Tea will show we are trying to be on her side.’

‘Help her what?’ Hermione asked. ‘Murder more people? She’s a Death Eater, Harry.’

‘But she doesn't want to be.’ She was in trouble. Harry was sure of it, and Felix had never been wrong about anything before. If it told him he needed to help her, then he would.

‘How do you know?’

‘I just know.’ Without the potion, Harry would have been frustrated, but nothing frustrated Felix. ‘I think we need her help as much as she needs ours. I think she can help us, and will help us stop Voldemort.’

Hermione looked away from him. ‘Are you sure you’re not wanting to help with girl because—’

‘Because, what?’ 

Ron spoke up when it was obvious Hermione didn’t want to continue. ‘She kind of looks like Malfoy.’

‘She _is_ a Malfoy.’ He was careful to say ‘a’ and not simply Malfoy.

‘You know what we mean, mate. She’s murdered hundreds of people, and she looks just like—’

‘This has nothing to do with him.’ Harry ran a hand through his hair. ‘And you know she’s stuck, and she wants out. She had no choice, and there are a lot worse ways—’

‘You would have died, before you let someone else die in your place,’ Hermione pointed out. ‘You never would have let one person die, let alone hundreds.’ 

‘Not everyone is me.’ The tea was ready and Harry headed out the door. He could still hear their conversation behind him.

‘Do you think,’ Ron said, ‘this is how he would have been like all year had Malfoy been a girl?’

‘How is this different?’ Hermione asked as though she saw no difference between Harry wanting to help Malfoy’s cousin, and him following Malfoy around trying to prove he was a Death Eater, a threat, someone to be taken seriously. 

Ron explained the same thing to Hermione, and she said, ‘Obsession is obsession.’

Harry made it to the stairs and couldn’t hear Ron’s response to that. Harry didn’t want to hear anymore anyway.

#

No matter how nice Potter was, Draco knew he was truly fucked. The only reason he was being so friendly was because Draco was still her: Daisy. Everyone was friendly with her. He only had a few hours of her before the potion wore off, and Potter would surely kill him. There was no way Vincent and Greg could get him away from Potter, even if they knew where he’d been taken. So, he had a few hours to find a way to sneak out, and Potter had his wand, and the door was locked.

And then Potter was in the room with her with that predatory look in his eyes, and a cup of tea.

Oh yes, he wanted her badly, and for some reason—one Draco didn’t want to examine—he was jealous of her for it. It wouldn’t stop him from using it to his advantage though, so Draco tried to smile at him in what he hoped was a flirtatious way. 

He took the tea from Potter and sipped it because he had no other choice. It startled Draco after the first sip. ‘It’s my favorite.’ It was perfect. He wanted to ask how’d known because he couldn’t have.

There was something off about Potter. About the way, he was smiling at her. Daisy walked toward him, but Draco wanted to run. He knew it would be easy to distract Harry, grab his wand, but Draco didn’t want to know what it felt like to kiss him. Being Daisy was a constant war for Draco. Her logical mind fighting with his emotional one. 

It was why he took the potion to become her for the missions. Not just because being a pretty girl made it far easier for him to talk his way into the clubs, but because he didn’t feel the need to be himself. He separated her actions from his own even if he knew, in reality, they were the same person.

So she’d come close to having sex before when trying to secure a venue, but he kept her from going that far. She was very detached from it, but Draco felt uncomfortable with it. He always was constantly reminding her that she wasn’t real. _But that is what makes my action matter so little_ , she’d remind him. Because she wasn’t real, she had no life to ruin. This caused her to be more reckless than Draco.

Draco held back as she moved forward.

‘I need to do this,’ Potter said, ‘before my luck runs out.’

Then Potter kissed her before she could ask: do what?

Potter pressed himself firmly against her as he become more and more lost in the kiss. Her hand fell to his wand, and he didn’t even notice. Take it. She should take it. That was the plan. _But, love, you’re enjoying this far too much_ , and her hand slipped away from Potter’s wand and into his hair. It was a bit impossible to lie to oneself. Especially when oneself was as stubborn and reckless as Daisy.

Daisy turned them and shocked Potter by pushing him onto the bed. Potter had obviously only wanted to kiss her, but judging by the look on his face he wasn’t about to say no to more. He shifted back farther on to the bed as she climbed on top of him.

Draco undid Potter’s jeans and pulled up Daisy’s dress just enough to allow her to sit comfortably on Potter’s lap without it getting in the way. They were kissing again, and Draco wasn’t sure if it was him or Potter that removed the lasts bits of fabric that kept them apart from each other. 

But he knew it was him that grabbed a hold of Potter’s erection and slowly guided it inside her body. Daisy flirted a lot, but had never had sex. They moved slow to give her body time to adjust to the stretching. As she grew wet they moved faster together. Potter took all his cues from her movements, slowing down and regaining movement with her.

Potter pulled up on the edge of her dress, but Draco wasn’t comfortable with the idea of losing it. It was too much a part of Daisy in his mind. Without it is, he would be too close to simply himself—only in a girl’s body. So he pressed the dress down. Potter took the hint and grabbed the beaded fabric in his fists and used it to pull Daisy’s hips down on him harder and faster. The first trust hurt, but by the third Daisy lost her breath at the jolt of pleasure it began to send through her.

She fell forward and grabbed onto the headboard to keep her body hovering over Harry as he fucked her.

Draco couldn’t stop her from moaning Harry’s name in between a series of yes’s and oh, Merlin’s as his thrusting became more frantic and deep. 

Potter’s jaw went slack and his head tipped forward to fall on her shoulder. Potter started to moan, ‘Oh, Dra—’ but broke off as he came. Draco bucked against him as he held himself in her, desperate not to let go of the balled up fabric in his hands. Her legs began to shake Draco tried to go faster to compensate for Potter’s diminishing erection, until she couldn’t continue on.

Though Draco was fairly certain she didn’t orgasm, he still felt a sense of satisfaction. _Next time,_ he thought, until it washed over him that there wouldn’t be a next time. How much time did he have before the potion wore off and Potter found out who he was?

‘She’s not real,’ Draco said after a moment. At Potter’s confused look, he continued. ‘I’m a boy; not a girl. Daisy isn’t real.’

‘Well,’ Potter said as he pulled Daisy down to lay next to him. ‘Then I suppose it is a good thing I’m bisexual.’

Draco sighed. Potter wasn’t getting it. How could he make the comparison between Daisy and Draco’s features and not get it? Draco tried to say more, but Potter cut him off with another deep kiss forcing Draco to lose the thought again.

‘What’s it like?’

‘What’s what like?’

‘Having sex as a girl.’

Draco struggled to put it into words. More intense. The same kind of build up, but in a different area? ‘It’s hard to explain,’ was all he said. Then Draco remembered Potter moaning part of a name, ‘What was it that you called me? What name were you about to say?’

Potter played with her hand, examining it, kissing it. ‘I might have to try it next time.’ Then he wrapped his hand around her neck and kissed the spot where her neck met her collarbone.

‘You really like that spot,’ Draco said, remembering how much he’d kissed it during sex.

‘No, you do.’ Potter chuckled. ‘Draco, you do.’

Draco pushed himself up and dislodging Potter’s hand to look at him. ‘How long have you known?’

‘Honestly, I don’t know.’

He suddenly felt very cold. ‘What are you going to do?’

‘I was planning on asking for your help.’

‘My help?’ Draco shook his head as his stomach began to turn. The potion was wearing off. Potter grabbed him and held him through it. The dress was too tight on him in his body. It made it difficult to breathe. He normally changed before.

As if reading his thoughts, Potter stood and found some things for Draco to wear out of his wardrobe. After Draco changed and was drinking his then cold tea, Potter continued, ‘That was some pretty impressive magic you used at the club. I, or I suppose, Felix thinks you’d be a very useful ally.’

‘I’ve murdered hundreds of people.’ 

‘Felix thinks you’d like to atone for that.’ Potter came to sit next to Draco. ‘I took some of the luck potion that I won brewing that potion last year. Felix has never steered me wrong yet.’ Potter hesitated but reached for Draco’s hand. It was bigger than Daisy’s and yet looked much the same.

‘You should be careful with that stuff,’ Draco said. ‘I hear it can be addictive.’ He paused. ‘What about your friends?’

‘They’ll come around,’ Potter said, sure of himself. ‘They always do.’

Draco thought of his friends. They’d been apart of it all, but he’d made sure they didn’t kill anyone. Without him there, they were certain to be required to. Unless, of course, they could stop Voldemort before he required them to. Draco didn’t know how much time he had.

‘We have to work fast, Potter.’ Their eyes met. ‘If you have a plan, we need to do it now.’

‘I don’t have a plan; that’s what I need you for, but I know how to kill him.’


End file.
